Love Sonnet 174: ' I Held A Rose And Got Pricked By Its Thorn, ' Poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes

I held a rose and got pricked by its thorn,
The pretty rose is joy, the thorn is pain,
Such as I walk through life wherewith I'm born,
I hold that joys presage pains to obtain;
So I grilled stars, and enriched wishing wells,
And Almanacs I pried when to begin,
The wizards, sought for apt hexes and spells,
To augur for a chance, there's love to win;
But Destiny proceeds as best or worse,
Like day that follows night, as though of hope,
Or night that follows day, as though a curse,
Yet, till this time, in thick darkness I grope;
......For even in the light, with love that's blind,
......The truth is still impossible to find.